


One Angry Newscaster

by Satan (CherryBones)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Also I don't remember writing most of this, Alternate Universe - GTA, I just finished what I started, I think that's it really it's just a quick little comment, I was mostly asleep, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, but also because I love the idea of murdery Jon, buuuuut also, horrifying levels of fluff though like seriously this will rot your teeth, okay i'll go now, this is all pure fucking fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 05:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4552734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryBones/pseuds/Satan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon's a little pissy about the other newscasters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Angry Newscaster

Jon loved his job. Really, he did! It was just that sometimes he also wanted to kind of blow up the building and get rid of the stupid people inside. He'd warn the smart people. Probably. At any rate he'd probably be doing Los Santos a favor. And the gene pool as a whole.

It was pretty simple in his opinion. People died, fact of life. Sometimes they were helped along with that by guns. Or explosions. Or knives. Whatever the crew was in the mood for really.

Occasionally Jon helped with that, but more on that later.

The crew caused havoc and chaos and destruction and it was Jon's day job to talk about it on the news because seriously, newsprint was a dead medium and just a waste of paper. At this rate though, so was Jon's job. He thought about getting a blog, but as long as he still had a reliable paycheck it just seemed like a waste of time.

Days like today though he really fucking wished he was doing something like that rather than staring watching the idiots who got the story as they bluffed their way through it, the fires still burning behind them. They had so much wrong he couldn't even believe it. All he could do was groan and push his feet irritably further into the lap they were resting on, sprawled across the couch as he was. The owner of said lap hummed in vague understanding and gently started to massage his feet, soothing his righteous fury. Said owner was also smiling though, clearly amused by the inaccuracies, so Jon didn't let himself be that soothed.

Of course Ryan would find it funny. Ryan didn't understand. The news was meant to have facts goddammit! Even if those facts were twisted and angled so they sat nice and pretty in the light, there still had to be facts.

Saying as much just earned a soft chuckle and a very warm and attentive boyfriend moving his feet out of his lap so he could kiss at Jon's angry expression. His threats did nothing to stop the approach and soon the expression slipped away because that was cheating goddammit. He couldn't be angry when Ryan was being purposefully sweet. He wanted to though. He really wanted to.

So Jon waited until he got up to grab another soda to turn the news up a little louder and cross his arms, grumbling petulantly.

Seriously, explosions were a possibility. For the greater good of the gene pool. He could probably get them from Michael in a day or two. He entertained the thought as he continued to mumble venom at the screen.

Jon knew murder, alright? As sweet and adorable as his boyfriend was during their time at home, there was a reason why so many items and walls and floors of their apartment had false spaces and compartments loaded with guns and knives and fake IDs. There was a reason why the couch he was sitting on was the third one they’d owned in as many months. There was a reason why there was facepaint in the bathroom cabinet and a mask under the kitchen sink.

Murder was something Jon was intimately acquainted with, in more ways than one.

Not all of them including the man who had dropped back onto the couch and was in the process of insistently dragging him into his lap. Jon gave a token protest, but when you had such a ridiculous example of a boyfriend trying to snuggle you to death, you don’t really put that much effort into it. He couldn't even argue when he turned off the news, nibbling playfully on his ear to distract him until the remote was tossed out of reach. All he did was grumble and hunker down deeper into his love’s hold, unable to help the smile that wound up on his face when he was enveloped by two very appreciated strong arms. Ryan tucked his head over Jon’s and he could feel the returning smile against his scalp.

“I could kill them if you wanted me to.”

“If they’re going to die I’m going to do it myself. And I’m going to take a very long time doing it.”

“We could make it a date? We could take them to one of the crew’s warehouses and you could go to town. I could get takeout from that little italian place you love.”

Jon grinned all the more, any remaining anger he had fading away to be replaced by thoughts of torture and murder with his boyfriend.

“You’re the best.”

“I know. Nap?”

“Nap.”

Maybe he wouldn’t blow up the building after all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trash.


End file.
